Outsecure
by Never the End127
Summary: A short, sweet one-shot from Barbara's point of view right before Dick shows up at his appartment steps on his birthday. (May not be a one-shot for very long. You may not understand unless you've read the comics. (Richard GraysonXBarbara Gordon)
1. Outsecure

YOUNG JUSTICE: Right before the door closes on Dick and Babs on Dick's nineteenth birthday, right before they go in together. Rated low-T for kissing and there's some suggestive stuff if you squint, nothing at all explicit. I'm trying to stick close to the actual show and comics. If I get some nice reviews, I'll consider doing a follow up of after the door closes. ;)

Hello Readers! I've done some writing before, but this is my first fanfic, so let me know what you think. Please be nice, I'm sensitive, although I take constructive critisim fairly well. Please excuse spelling mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc. etc. If I did, this sure as hell would have been included in the comics.

**OUTSECURE**

It's dark when she reaches his apartment.

Her heart flutters nervously, and she tugs anxiously on the hem of her skirt while she stands near the lamp-post, waiting patiently.

Don't get too worked up now. She reminds herself. He might be late.

Barbara sits down on the bottom step of the staircase that leads up to Dick's apartment, now fiddling with her hair. Suddenly embarrassed, she drops her hands, mentally scolding herself for being so fidgety. Barbara Gordon does not get fidgety. Particularly over boys. Particularly over this boy.

She sighs and combs her fingers through her long, dark red hair, slightly wavy from the pony-tail she usually keeps it up in. The cold December wind bites at her bare skin, and she pulls her legs in closer and wraps her arms around herself, shivering even though she wears a sweater and warm, thick skirt. She wishes he would hurry up.

She tries to entertain herself thinking back to the string of birthday kisses he's had today, before her. The mental image of him wrapped around the dark-haired magician makes her grin and roll her eyes fondly. He is such a dog. Sometimes a hound-dog, sometimes a puppy.

Most girls would get jealous, watching their sort-of-almost-it's-complicated boyfriends running their hands all over other girls. But Barbara isn't insecure, not about anything. Dick had often called her 'Outsecure,' which is both frustrating and annoying and lame. And honestly, Dick has done a good job in making sure that there isn't a single shadow of doubt in her mind that he doesn't love her like crazy.

Richard Grayson is not sappy. He rarely admits attachments to people, and he never says 'I love you.' Not to anyone.

Of course, Barbara Gordon is the exception.

Ever since she joined the team, they've had this connection that they've done their best to ignore. They've tried not using labels. They've tried having serious relationships with other people. They've tried claiming were just really good friends. They'd flirt, argue, spar and tease each other endlessly, but somehow still end up in the nearest closet, kissing like the world was ending.

It had only been a week or so ago, right after she got back from a mission he sent her on. It had gone horribly wrong—Barbara had managed to cheat death half a dozen times, been hit by Cassie in mid-air, (again) and sustained the usual life-threatening injuries. No sooner had she gotten out of the infirmary and headed back for the training room for debriefing than she ran into Nightwing. She had barely gotten out a hello when he had dragged her into the nearest closet, locked the door and pushed her up against the wall, his mask torn off and lying forgotten on the floor. Barbara shivered, remembering his hot mouth covering hers roughly, passionately, almost desperately, remembered how his hand gripped her waist so tightly, his arms locking around her and pulling her into a vice-like hold. Remembered his low, hungry voice in her ear, "You scared me to death, Barbara." That was the last thing she remembered before his body pressed fully on her own and his lips found her neck.

He always hovered near her during missions—always clinging near like a shadow to protect her. It was irritating, since she's beaten him in sparring more often than not, (a feat she reminds him of every time he gets too bossy.)

'I love you. God, Barbara, I love you so, so much.' He tells her every chance he gets. His words both excite her and terrify her, make her want to run, to tear her hands out of his grasp and flee to somewhere those beautiful, ice-blue eyes can't see. Somewhere he can't lull her in with sweet words and adoring stares. She knows he's trouble. No matter how endearing, how kind, Dick is the worst playboy in the history of superheroes.

And Barbara is used to being screwed over by the people who say they love her.

Then she sees him heading towards her; feels him coming, more like- all those years of training. She grins down at her skirt, pinching her lower lip between her teeth almost in anticipation.

Dick isn't the same person he was when he was a kid. He doesn't laugh as easily, crack as many jokes, have as many friends, and he the friends he does have... the bonds just aren't as strong.

But some things never change.

"You're here."

"I'm here." Barbara smiles. She stands up and there are a few seconds of hesitation as he looks her up and down, like he's hardly daring to believe it. Then he moves forwards in two strides and kisses her eagerly, like he hasn't seen her in weeks. One hand encircles her waist, lifting her up off the ground and into his arms. The other tangles hopelessly in her long, soft hair, and Barbara realizes she should swat him in annoyance for messing it up, after all the care she took in brushing it out, but then his lips are lower, on her neck, and his hands were on her waist and...

What was the problem again?

He draws back and says to her, as plainly and as sweetly as if he's said it a thousand times, "You know I love you, Barb. Remind me again why we're not together?"

"Because," She teases, pulling away a little and rubbing their noses together. "of the immortal words of Wally West- you are a dog, Dick Grayson." She stares into his ice-blue eyes, and her words soften. "You're not ready for me. Yet."

Dick smiles and rubs his nose against hers, and Barbara feels a familiar pang of loneliness. Her mother taught her that. "Eskimo kisses." she had deemed them. "you give them to people you really love, Barbie doll." That was two weeks before her mother left. And never came back.

Dick shook his head and picked up his duffle bag, leading her towards the stairs. "Then why come tonight?" He wraps an arm around her waist, bumping her hip against his and stopping at the top of the iron-grate steps to nibble on her ear.

She shoves him off, laughing. "Because it's your birthday, hero... or it was when I got here." she gives him a meaningful smirk as he unlocks the door. "So, if it's okay with you..." Barbara grabs him by the front of his jacket, and he laughs- his real laugh, his Robin laugh that was so amused and triumphant and immature and sweet. That laugh that she misses so much these days.

"...let's just spend a little time together."


	2. Afraid

**chapter: 2**

**rating: T for some suggestive stuff, nothing extreme**

**summary: When the door closes on our favorite ship. This is pure fluff. Cute fluff, you might find, especially if you like to make fun of soap operas.**

**notes: I apologize, but I cannot write graphic intimate scenes just yet. I prefer humor and fluff. Please tell me if there's anything inaccurate in this story so I can edit it.**

AFRAID

"Ever notice how people in soap operas always seem to have evil twins?" Barbara asked with her mouth full of popcorn.

Dick let out his classic Robin cackle and leaned forwards to tug the bowl out of her hands. "Yeah, and they're always getting amnesia." He added, grinning at her fondly.

"Apparently, they all have private jets, too." Barb quipped, gesturing at the screen.

Dick shook his head, laughing. "Why are we watching this again?"

"Hmm," Barbara said as she took a moment to swallow her popcorn, "Because this is what was on, and you said no to the home design show and golf."

"Oh, that's right." Dick said, looking back at the screen.

As soon as they had made it back into Dick's apartment, they had stumbled into his room with Dick completely unable to keep his hands to himself. But Barbara made sure they didn't go straight to the physical stuff, which seemed to be the only thing they usually had time for nowadays.

First, they had joked and laughed, talked about the team and work and Alfred and Barbara's dad. About the weather and books and movies and nothing in particular. They had kissed and hugged and (surprise, surprise) eventually ended up in Dick's bed.

But this wasn't the same as it had been the night before. Usually, when Dick was with other girls, it was fast and rough and hard, with no time for any of the sweet stuff like kissing and stroking and petting. With Barbara, it was achingly long and sweet and slow, both of them taking their time and lavishing each other's bodies with attention. Barbara's hands were in Dick's hair, playing with the thick, short locks at the back of his head, just the way he liked it. In turn, Dick's hands were on Barbara's hips, fingers tracing patterns over the sensitive skin. When they finished, Dick had moved them both to the couch and curled up with her under the afghan.

It had been casual. Casual because Barbara was trying not to remember the intensity of his stare. How he prolonged eye-contact for as long as he could. How he had breathed her name over and over again into the crook of her neck, almost with reverence. Even now, she was refusing to return his gaze. It was casual because Barbara needed it to be.

Barbara had flicked the lights on and had put him to work looking for a movie or TV show to watch while she made popcorn, 'the old fashioned way.' She lived to regret it. But of course, Dick had assured her that he loved burnt food, and that he hadn't liked that cooking pot much, anyways, so the scorch marks were nothing to fuss over. She had grabbed some stale coke that had been in his fridge for way to long and insisted she get to make a toast to the birthday boy and her best friend.

The heater was broken and Dick's landlord flatly refused to fix it, despite it being early December, so the situation wasn't completely ideal. But it didn't matter to either of them whether the room was cold, the coke stale, the popcorn burnt or the movie cheesy. Dick wanted Barbara over because she was Barbara. Any situation they were in would be fun.

Now, they were sitting on his couch with their legs tangled up under the afghan, watching a forty-something year old woman in a tight red dress, (the kind of dress you never wanted to see a forty-something year old woman in) who was explaining why she killed 'Esmerelda.'

Meanwhile, Dick was watching Barbara, his smile subtle but adoring. He loved her when she was like this. Not confident and powerful, demanding attention like most of the other girls he dated. Some guys liked girls with the low-cut shirts and the mini-skirts that would fit a cat—and okay, he might be one of those guys. Just because he's the strong, serious leader of a team of super heroes does not make him any less of a guy. Of course he liked it. To an extent.

But what really appealed to him was when Barbara was like this, in her modest, simple skirts or jackets or blazers— or in this case, his T-shirt. He had dug it out of his drawer and insisted she put it on before he agreed to a movie. It was a faded gray concert T-shirt with the collar ripped off, and the band on front had long since been worn away. And it showed a lot of her legs.

Barbara was sure he planned that. She stared at the screen resolutely, refusing to even look at him. Because when Dick started looking at her like that, she would fall apart in his hands. He didn't even have to try. Over the years, Barbara had worked out that knowing Dick was kind of like owning a hyperactive puppy. He could be serious, sure, but he also needed to be petted, praised, and played with. He loved to compete with her, even though he always lost everything but combat training and computer hacking. He loved attention, loved to cuddle, and he was much more sensitive then he pretended to be. She just needed to get past the mask, past the dark glasses that he wore even when she was the only one around. Then she'd see him. Her Robin. Her friend. Her Richard.

She'd learned to hate those glasses over the past few years.

"Hey Barb?"

"Yeah Dick?"

"I love you." He said seriously, his blue eyes unguarded and honest.

"I know, buddy." Barbara reached out and stroked his arm, her eyes still fixed on her lap. She couldn't look at him, couldn't say she loved him too. And she hated herself for it. She had always thought it was so obnoxious and ungrateful to say 'I know,' when someone tells you they love you. She should tell him the truth. She knew how much he wanted to hear it. But she was afraid. Afraid of letting someone else into her heart like that. She knew him to well to think this would last.

Dick had a way of hanging onto the past. He'd dig in his heels and couldn't let go—couldn't let go of their relationship when most high-school friends would have parted ways long ago, would have admitted they had outgrown each other. She personally believed that the only reason he stayed friends with his exes was because he couldn't let go of any relationship, good or bad. She was afraid to think of what would happen to her when he did finally grow up, when he saw the person she's grown into and not just his childhood friend. As much as she loved him, as much as she wanted him, she was afraid.

Her father called it being 'cynical.' Her mother had called it being 'realistic.'

"Catch." Barbara said suddenly, picking a piece of popcorn out of the bowl and holding it up between two fingers. She tossed it into the air, and it bounced off of Dick's nose. "Oh, that was sad, Grayson." She said scathingly. "Just sad."

Dick narrowed his eyes. "You know of course, this means war, Gordon."

Barbara barely had time to laugh before he'd pounced on her, making her spill the popcorn all over her lap with a shriek. He immediately ducked his head to her ear and said excitedly, "Bet I could take your earring off with my teeth without you even knowing."

"I doubt that, boy wonder." Barbara snickered. "Don't try, that sound's painful—"

And then Dick pulled back with the little yellow ring between his teeth, and Barbara went slack-jawed while he howled with laughter. "I win." He said, sounding like a triumphant little kid who's won a board game.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and playfully tries to shove him off. "C'mon Dick, I'm freezing. Get off me and give me some more of the blanket."

She realizes that it was a dumb thing to say seconds after the words had left her mouth. Dick grinned like the devil, then tipped his head and pressed a kiss under her jaw. "I have an idea to help us warm up…" He moved his lips down to the crook of her neck.

Barbara laughed and kicked him off giddily. "Get off of me, boy wonder." She giggled. She started to get up, looking towards her bedroom where her clothes are, which Dick had ripped off enthusiastically before… Barbara went red just thinking about it. "I have to go home soon anyways. If the team sees us zeta to the cave together, they'll—"

"Get back down here, Batgirl." Dick ordered in his Nightwing voice. "That's an order."

She looked into his deep blue eyes and pressed her lips together thoughtfully. He was trying to appear as serious and business-like as possible, but the smile playing at the corner of his lips ruined the whole image.

"Nope." She said jovially, kissing his forehead. "Doesn't work without the mask, wing-nut."

She froze as his fingers hooked around the hem of her/his t-shirt, and she gritted her teeth.

But then of course he just had to look up at her with that Robin smile and those big blue eyes, and just like always, she fell apart in his hands. "Please, Barb?" He asked.

Damn. Barbara cursed both her hormones and that stupid part of her brain that made her do whatever he wanted.

The next morning, they zeta to the cave together.

Hi! Thank you anyone who read this far, it means a lot to me. Hey, you see that box down there, the one that says 'reviews?' click it. Click it. Come on, you know you want to.

CLICK IT.

(Seriously, I'm open to criticism and I enjoy praise. Let's just remember that every Dick&Babs shipper has a different idea of what happened after the door closed, and this is mine. Just because mine may not be exactly like yours doesn't mean it's okay to flame it. So please be kind.)


	3. Forever

**Disclaimer—Young Justice isn't mine. If it was, don't you think this would've happened?**

**Grrr. Look what you people made me do! Now I've written another chapter for a story I didn't intend to continue. This is just another one shot about when Dick told Barbara he loved her for the ****_very first time._**** It's not relevant to my actual story, but I didn't just want to make a new series of one-shots, so I figured here would be a good place to put this story. You kind of need to have read my other story, "Intrinsic" to properly understand some of the content of this chapter, but I guess it doesn't matter if you haven't. I'm actually pretty satisfied with the way it turned out, so you're all forgiven for driving me to write this. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"I still don't get what you're so upset about."

Dick follows her across the room towards the batcomputer, his angry footsteps echoing around the stone walls. "You weren't paying any attention out there. Do you have any sense of self-preservation? You're lucky you didn't bleed to death!"

"Still not sure how this concerns you." Barbara says, shrugging and ducking her head to look for the toolbox where she knows Alfred stores bandages.

"The entire mission was a disaster. Do you have any idea how that's going to look when I have to hand a report back to Bats at the end of the week?" His voice suggested that Barbara had done more to offend him then put a mark on his report.

"It wasn't a disaster." Barbara argues, rifling through Bruce's crowded drawers.

"It was." Dick snarls, his teeth gritted and blue eyes flashing dangerously. "You got stabbed, Barbara."

"I was grazed." She corrects, raising the hem of her shirt to examine the stitched up wound. Dick sucks air in through his teeth as she starts to change the bandage.

"Since when are you the responsible one?" Barbara questions.

"Since I became leader." He says flatly.

"Well, I think I liked it better when you were out on the field with me." Barbara quips, sealing the bandage and pulling my shirt back down.

"I think I liked that too." He grits out.

"What is it with you today?" Barbara asks, closing Bruce's door and trying to walk past him out into the hallway, but he blocks her path.

"We are going to talk about this." Dick growls, his arms crossed over his chest.

And of course, because Barbara can't stand being told what to do, she doesn't even consider it. "No we're not." She responds, just as calmly, shoving him to the side and starting for the door again.

He grabs Barbara roughly by the shoulder, pulling her back and nearly shouting, "You could have gotten everyone on your team killed! Why would you take a risk like that?"

"My team was completely safe!" She's almost yelling now, too. "I was the only one in any danger—isn't that what I'm supposed to do? You, Jason, Batman; you all risk your lives for the sake of the mission pretty much constantly, so why is it any different when I—"

"It just is, okay?" He says finally, spitting the words out quickly, as if he has no better way of putting them and wants to get it out of the way.

"Oh, that's not vague at all." Barbara says dryly, and Dick's jaw clenches in fury.

"Stop treating this like it's a joke."

"Stop acting like you're in charge of me." She shoots back.

"I _am _in charge of you. I'm team leader." Dick snarls.

"Oh, not this again."

"What if you had died?" He shouts.

"Then I would have died! That's the risk we take." Barbara counters.

"Not a risk you're going to take." Dick replied, his voice suddenly stoic and calm.

"Bite me, Grayson." Barbara snapped, trying to shove him to the side.

And of course, to add insult to injury, she's forced again to admit that he's still stronger than her. Dick doesn't budge. "Come on, move it _Dick._" She snarls, cocking one of her eyebrows mockingly.

"No. We're going to talk about this." Dick growls.

"What's to talk about?" Barbara gives him a hard jab in the chest, but he still didn't move. "You're not in charge of me! You don't get to decide when I put myself in danger. You are my friend, not my keeper. I can fend for myself, so—"

"All I'm asking is that you be a little more careful—"

"No, you're flipping out on me like you always do because the mission didn't go exactly how you planned it." Barbara shoots back. "_Why _do you always do this? _Why_ do you always get so mad?"

For a moment, Dick was silent. His gaze was deeper, darker, his eyes more serious and all of his muscles tensed. When he spoke, Barbara shuddered at the low growl in his voice. "Do you really still not know?"

"Dick… I—" Barbara begins tentatively, her voice falling to match his quieter tone.

"After all of these years, all of those missions and training sessions and arguments, all the times we've fought- either for, with, or against each other—after all the times I've jumped between you and a gun…" He took a step closer, and Barbara took an instinctive step back, her heartbeat fluttering and her hands trembling at the weight of his words.

"…Barbara, how can you _still _not understand?"

Barbara's mouth was dry and she was shaking her head in warning, wishing he'd forget about it, wishing he wouldn't say the words. Over the years, Dick had gotten dangerously close to her, and she had been dreading this moment, fearful of losing him. _Don't say it, don't say it_, she silently pleaded with him.

"Richard… we can't… _please_…"

"I _love_ you, Barbara. Do you _really_ not see that?" Dick breathed.

Barbara couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Her brain felt fuzzy and for a moment forming words was completely impossible. And by the time she was oriented enough to actually talk, her lips were otherwise occupied.

Dick had taken her face in his hands roughly and her back met the cool stone wall as he crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was stubborn, demanding and forceful, and Barbara found her hands encircling his neck, fingers twisting through his thick, jet black hair and tugging gently.

He moaned in encouragement and tilted his head, his tongue persistently pushing at her lower lip and his eyelids fluttering in surprise that she's actually responding, that this is really _happening_.

His eyelashes tickled her cheek and his warm body pressed against hers. Warm skin, soft hair, broadened shoulders that used to be so bony now make her feel a little weak in the knees as his arms go around her. Impatient with the slow, gentle way she kisses him, Dick pulls away and wedges her harder against the wall. He's tired of waiting. He wants more.

Dick kisses down her jaw hungrily and molds his hot mouth against her neck, over her pulse-point, sucking hard. She's sure there will be bruises in the shapes of his fingers all over her body tomorrow.

"Richard…" Barbara breathes, half exasperated, half blissfully. She tugs his hair, trying to pull him away, but he takes this entirely the wrong way and his grip on her only tightens.

"I love you, Barbara." He mumbles against her neck contentedly, almost lazily.

She bites her lip, looking up at the jagged ceiling of broken rock. Tears of sympathy and self-loathing prick the backs of her eyes, and she curses herself furiously. She shouldn't be crying. She never cries.

"Love you, so much." Dick's voice is muffled as he refuses to pull his lips away from her neck and shoulders. "I've loved you forever, Barbara."

_Forever._ The word itself sounds like a child's fairy tale.

The word both excites her and terrifies her. There's a part of her that's lonely, that wants to be desired and treasured and loved. A part of her she's buried down for most of her life, past the age of twelve. And then there's another part of her. One that reminds her that this is a bad idea. She's reminded of James Junior's promise, reminded of what he threatened to do to anyone she got too close too. Even if she never told Dick how she felt, James still…

"I'll love you forever." He promises, his words clumsy and stuttering. "As a friend, a leader, a teammate, anything you need. Whatever. I don't care if Jason was lying or not, even if we don't last while we're together, I'll always love you. Forever." Dick promises, nuzzling her neck.

She hopes he doesn't mean it.

* * *

**A/N- How's that for an impressively depressing ending, huh? I'm working on uploading a new chapter for Intrinsic and I'm considering writing more for 'She gets away with everything.' It all really depends on how my schedule works out, because it's been raining like crazy lately and you lucky followers get lost of Dick/Babs love. So it all depends on the weather!**


	4. Shrapnel

**Disclaimer- I still don't own Young Justice. hate writing these. Better than getting sued, I guess.**

**Rating- T for some gruesome injuries. Not much violence, though.**

**A/N—Hello friends! Some genius pointed out to me that instead of Dick, it should be Barbara getting fussy and overprotective. So in this story, Dick nearly dies and Barbara almost says the dreaded three words, thinking she's lost him forever. (I am such a sap. It's a problem, really, I need to stop watching chick flicks with my roommate after 3 a.m.) I guess it's around before Tula died and Kaldur left the team, and there's Artemis in it. I think Richard should be about 17, and Barbara is 16. Enjoy the mayhem!**

* * *

"Jeez, where do all of these guys _come _from?" Barbara gasps, ducking behind the wall of one of the spears of rock that form the Quaraqi mountain.

"I have no idea." Artemis grunts, pulling herself up onto a higher patch of land to load her bow again. She pulled back and shot two explosive arrows into one of the hills of sand the soldiers were fighting behind.

"Stay out of range." Nightwing ordered shortly, gesturing for Artemis to come down from her rock. "There are way too many of them for the three of us."

"Then contact the rest of the team." Barbara ordered shortly, whipping a batarang as hard as she could, which lodged itself in the shoulder of a Quaraqi and exploded shortly thereafter.

"Come on." Dick tugged shortly on the back of her cape.

The two girls turned without another word of complaint and fled towards the mountains, occasionally turning to whip a knife or an arrow over their shoulders.

When they reach the safety of the rocks, all three of them are panting and bleeding for some reason, with ripped costumes and bloodied hands. "Alpha…" Dick rasps into his communicator. "Tell all squadrons to…" He grimaced, as if the next words were painful for him to say. "Pull back and… surrender."

The gunfire suddenly stopped, and Barbara's ears pricked up in dread. She didn't dare look around to see what the source was. All that was visible through the darkness was swirling black sand and a light sprinkling of stars across the sky.

And then there was the explosion.

Barbara's eardrums felt like they had just collapsed as the planted bomb shot shrapnel fifty yard from where it went off, flinging her back against the rock wall. Pain is everything, the only thing that exists in those few moments. She thinks she calls out Richard's name, (she hopes she doesn't) and doesn't know whether she wants help or wants to give it.

"Batgirl!" Artemis shrieks, and there's a muffled shout from Dick as they're all thrown back further as a pile of rubble collapses in front of them, forming a barricade.

"Richard!" Barbara calls out, dragging her leg out from under a huge block of rock and managing not to scream in the process. She doesn't care who can hear them. Most of those soldiers don't speak English anyways.

"Barbara?" Artemis's voice rasps from the far corner.

"Artemis." Barbara sighs in relief. "Where's Richard?"

"Oh no, I'm fine thanks." Artemis mutters sarcastically, her voice echoing around the small, darkened space. Barbara blushes and starts to apologize.

"Don't be sorry, I'm with you kid. I didn't see what happened to him." Artemis interrupts.

"Are you okay, though?"

"May have sprained my wrist and I have rocks sticking out of me everywhere—little ones, don't worry. I'll live. You?"

"I hit my head. Can't see clearly." Barbara mumbled.

"Well, you're not missing much." Artemis grunted, and there was the sound of rock scraping across rock as she struggled to move.

_"B… Barb…"_ A strained voice rasped from somewhere in the dark, followed by a low keening noise.

Barbara looked up, her eyes wide and straining to see as she tugged herself out from under the pile of rubble.

_"Bar-bara… Ar-mis…"_ Dick moaned, and there was shifting as Artemis searched for him.

"Richard! Richard, where are you?" Barbara pleaded, trying to crawl over in the direction of his voice. The stones were sharp under her hands, but she was too focused to feel any pain as her skin split and her nerves ached.

"Where is he? Barbara, can you see anything?"

"Hang on, I think I have an emergency light on my cowl." Barbara fumbled for the switch.

Artemis huffed indignantly, but the noise was marred with a pained moan. "Sure, now you tell me."

"Hush." Barbara could see a tattered blue glove, and scrambled towards it, quickly finding the crumpled body beside it.

Dick was flat on his back on a pile of wires and stone and metal debris, his hand curled around one escerisma stick and his bloody teeth gritted. Even unconscious, he was trying to hide his pain, fighting back moans and cursing quietly in Mandarin Chinese—a habit he had for whenever things went wrong on a mission with the other kids.

Barbara, ignoring the rocks cutting into her legs, carefully pulled his head onto her lap and tried to soothe him as Artemis made their way towards them.

When Artemis finally reached them, Barbara ran her light over Nightwing's body and a startled wail escaped her lips before she could bite it back down. He was covered in the same scrapes and cuts as the other two, but in between his ribs, in the center of his heaving chest, a long, bent scrap of metal was stuck.

Artemis sucked in air through her teeth and Barbara dropped her forehead to his, hearing his gurgling, raspy breathing as he struggled to breathe through his own blood. "Artemis, please…" She begged the archer, the only one on the team who had any extensive medical training.

Artemis was already shining light on the wound, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed. "This… this doesn't look good. He's lost a lot of blood already, I don't know if I should pull it out…"

Dick's lips parted slightly and his hand twitched towards Barbara. _"Bar-ra…"_ He slurred.

Barbara slipped her hand into his. His tousled black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and she carefully stroked it back, murmuring in his ear and cooing softly. "It's okay, we're here sweetheart. I'm here." She tried to keep her voice steady.

_"Hurts…"_ He whined lowly in the back of his throat, and Barbara winced.

"Okay, Barbara…" Artemis gritted out. "I… I'm going to need you to hold him down."

Barbara felt like she was the one with a piece of shrapnel in his chest. She doesn't know what she says next, because her ears are ringing and her body is trembling so hard Dick's head is nearly jerked off of her lap. She does know that Artemis tries to be gentle. She has to say what she wants to get across three times before Barbara really hears it, but she's being gentle.

"Barbara, honey, listen to me. I need you to hold Dick still. The piece of metal is blocking the air passage to his heart. Now what I need you to do is hold onto his shoulders and try to keep him calm if he wakes up. Can you do that for me?" She spoke as if to a small child, but Barbara needed it.

_Get a grip, Gordon._ She told herself, grinding her teeth and nodding slowly, still incapable of speech. She placed her hands on Dick's shoulders, and he shuddered violently, moaning in pain.

Artemis's hand rested on his torso, the other wrapping around the crooked slat of metal jammed in his chest. She looked up at Barbara, almost desperately, and Barbara felt a sudden stab of guilt as she realized that she was not the only one who was afraid.

Artemis tugs, hard and fast, and the metal piece of shrapnel pulls out of his body with this horrible sliding sound. It's so much longer than it looked like it would be, slimy with blood and curved at the end. There's a horrible ripping noise as it's torn out of his body, and Barbara feels like someone's punched her in the chest as he cries out.

Barbara can count on one hand how many times she's seen him cry, and she doesn't even have to use most of her fingers. But now there are tears leaking out from under his mask, and his head is thrown back as he lets out a scream that's so painful, it's near inhuman.

He cries out again as Artemis hand flies to the gash to stop the blood that gushes from the open wound. He moans Barbara's name and his hand grasps out to the side, looking for her.

"I'm here, Richard, I'm right here." Her voice is strained and painful as she catches his hand and strokes it with her thumb. Barbara positions herself so his head is sideways in her lap and she's on Artemis's side. He's still whimpering and keening lowly in pain.

"Ah… there's… Barb, there's a lot of blood." Artemis hisses, hopelessly dabbing at the gash with a scrap of cloth from Barbara's cape.

"Sew it up." Barbara orders shortly, a rush of adrenaline hitting her blood. "There's needle and wire thread in my utility belt."

"I—Barbara, he's already lost so much—"

"Artemis, _now_." Barbara says.

At the sound of her voice, Dick started to stir. "Barbara?" He groaned, his head lifting up slightly. He let out a wanton cry of pain, and his fingers twisted around the fabric of her cape.

"It's okay, baby." Barbara crooned. "You're okay, I'm here."

_"Hurts…"_ He moaned again, and turned his head so his cheek rested on her thigh.

"I know, I know Richard." She soothed. She looked up at Artemis, who was tugging at the zipper on the utility belt in her hands. "Artemis, the left packet." She nearly snapped.

Artemis drew the needle and thread and asked for more light. Barbara shined it on the wound and stroked Dick's hair, trying to calm him as he winced and cringed. The needle flashed in and out of sight, and when the archer was done, a crude line of blue, uneven wire stitching was visible.

"Shhhh." Barbara stroked Dick's hair. He coughed, and blood splattered his lips.

Artemis went ridged. "No… oh no, no, no…" She started searching desperately through the bag beside her, throwing things onto the rocks and muttering.

"What's wrong?" Barbara demanded. She was answered by the rasping sound of Dick's choked, labored breathing. His ice-blue eyes shot open, wild and terrified. "What's wrong with him?"

Artemis was breathing as hard as Dick was as she pulled the bag onto her lap. "Oh God… no, please no… where… where is it...?" Her shoulders relaxed only the slightest as she pulled a long, hypodermic needle out of her bag.

"That doesn't have any medicine in it." Barbara tried to contain her panic.

"It's not supposed to." Artemis said.

"What's wrong with him?" Barbara demanded, almost aggressively. "Artemis, what is it?"

"His lungs are filling up with fluid." Artemis gasped. "Hold him still." She tore a piece of his costume aside and jabbed the needle into his skin. Dick hissed sharply in pain, and Barbara's hands immediately went to his hair to calm him. He loved it when she played with his hair, and he instinctively relaxed into her touch, murmuring her name.

Artemis pulled back on the plunger, sucking a clear, blood-tingled liquid out of his lungs. She quickly emptied it and pushed it back into his chest. Dick was shaking and sweating, his fingers nearly crushing hers as he struggled to choke back a scream.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, I'm here. I'm right here." Barbara didn't realize she was crying until she saw her tears splattering across his face, soaking into the cuts. He winced.

"It's… it's not working, his heart is slowing down…" Artemis sounded close to tears too.

"Please, stay with me." Barbara pleaded with him. "Open your eyes."

He didn't respond, only swallowed the blood rising in his throat.

Barbara looked down at the growing pool of red spread out on the stones. "Artemis, he needs a transfusion."

Artemis, her eyes hazy with grief, looked up in confusion. "Of blood?"

"No, cupcakes." Barbara snarls scathingly her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. "What's your blood type?"

"I—here? You want to give him a blood transfusion now? With what? Barbara we need to contact the team." Artemis said, sounding suddenly helpless.

"They're all off-line. His communicator was smashed when he hit the rocks." Barbara said, and Dick's muscles tensed at the venom in her voice.

"Barb, I'm trying to help." Artemis said quietly, and Barbara relaxed, murmuring an apology. "I don't know what my blood type is."

Barbara was about to answer with a snide retort, but caught herself. "That's fine." She said. "I'm A+, he's AB+. The two types aren't ideal, but compatible. I can give him as much as he needs."

"How?" Artemis asks.

"Give me one of your arrows and that syringe." Barbara gritted out.

"Barbara—" Artemis started to protest, but the look in Barbara's eyes and the strangled, gasping cough Dick gave convinced her to hand over both without a fuss.

"What's the arrow for?" She asked, sounding choked.

Barbara hissed sharply and tried not to call out as Artemis made a small noise of shock. She had made a v-shaped slice in her skin inside the crook of her elbow. Biting down on the skin of her shoulder, she pushed it in further. A whining, wayward groan tore its way out of her throat and she bowed her head against her knee as a sudden rush of blood poured out of her own arm.

"Gordon, what the hell are you _doing_?" Artemis rasped, looking horrified.

"Looking—for an artery." Barbara hissed. She pulled the arrow out sharply and it fell out of her shaking hands, clattering across the stones.

"Well, stop it before you're the one who needs a transfusion." Artemis said unsteadily.

Barbara ignored her, pressing the needle of the syringe into her arm and pulling back on the plunger. She had seen this done one time while Tim was in the ER. The doctors had cut into Dick's arm to get to his artery, and his body responded by filling the blood with adrenaline. The blood and adrenaline had both been injected into Tim's body, and the combination of the two had literally restarted his heart.

Of course, both Tim and Dick had been given penicillin on that occasion.

Barbara bites back a scream as her heart flutters nervously, and she fills the container to the brim before emptying it into Dick's arm. She does it four more times before Artemis stops her.

"Barbara, honey, I think that's enough." She chides gently.

Barbara nods. "Try to contact the team again." She rasps tiredly. "I—I'll stay here." She sets down the needle and her bloodied hands fall to the communicator on Dick's wrist. "See if you can get this working again." She orders briskly, and Artemis complies, crawling off the pile of rubble and starting to play with the small, crushed device still attached to Nightwing's glove.

Dick moans again, and his eyes flutter open. "Barbara…" He can't even form any other words, but his voice is so pained he doesn't have to. He starts to look down at his crumpled body, and Barbara immediately tries to distract him, humming and cooing and kissing his face, wanting to make him feel something other than pain.

Eventually, Dick's head slumps to the side and he falls asleep restlessly.

As Barbara bows her head to fit in the crook of his neck, she tries to mentally prepare herself for what may happen. She tries to imagine him being gone.

The idea alone nearly kills her.

It makes her throat go dry and her head feel light and her heart nearly stops. She realizes that up until this point, she's never considered what her life would be like without him. She tries to fathom a world without his trolling Robin smirk. Without the musky scent of soot and stone and fresh rain water, like Bludhaven itself. A world without his cackling laugh, his smug comments and warm, chapped hands, running up and down her sides and combing lovingly through her long, tangled hair.

Barbara doesn't realize she's begging him to stay with her, to open his eyes, to keep breathing. Not until he starts to stir. She quiets down for a moment, choking back her sobs and watching his face twist with pain. Then he shifts, and his head lolls onto her shoulder. He murmurs her name. The only sound is of static as Artemis desperately tries to lock a signal onto the bioship.

"Please." She begs, smoothing his hair back from his face. "_Please_, Richard, don't leave me. Please. I love you." She's murmuring quiet, tearful confessions of love under his ear, against his jaw. She doesn't even feel the gash in her arm as her blood soaks into her costume.

"Yes! Yes, we're here!" Artemis suddenly cries out. "Yes! Conner, oh, thank God! We're okay, but Nightwing's hurt, badly—we need help. Yes. Okay. You've got a lock on our signal, right? Thank God. Oh, thank God. I've never been so happy to hear your voice!"

Barbara felt Dick stir beside her, and she relaxed suddenly. "It's okay, buddy." She promised. "They're coming. It's going to be okay."

When the team finds them, it's a haze of lights and people and noise. They have five paramedics picked up from the nearest Quaraqi hospital. They don't speak any English. Artemis is telling their story, and everyone wants to know what happened to her arm. She doesn't care about her arm, and she wishes they'd stop bothering her. She only cares about him. Her arm could be mutilated and scared for the rest of her life, why is no one worried about him? They fly to the nearest hospital and she's not sure what happens after that.

When Dick finally wakes up she gets to talk to him for five minutes before the drugs pull him back under. Even then it was hazy and Barbara was unaware of what was happening. It was all hands and lips and Dick telling her he loved her, asking her if she was okay and what was wrong with her arm? She brushed his questions away and kissed him.

He doesn't remember anything she said to him. She's glad.

* * *

**A/N—Wow, this turned out to be longer than I expected. BTW, I really should not have to say this, but please—if any of you are ever trapped in a dark cave, and one of your friends has a piece of shrapnel stuck in their chest, do NOT try to do a blood transfusion with a syringe and an arrow. Please. I don't want to get sued. I hope you guys enjoyed the story!**


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